Clearly Harassment
by lightning bird
Summary: Our favorite Substitute Creature has the worst day on record as he deals with a malfunctioning wardrobe, an over-caffeinated Dexter, and a certain evil demon in tulle and stilettos that refuses to take 'No' for an answer. Him/Green attempted slash.
1. Game On, Kilroy

**Clearly Harassment**

**-or-**

**What Part of 'No' Don't You Understand?**

**Chapter One: Game On, Kilroy**

_A/N This bit of silliness was written several months ago and was inspired by a few late-night brainstorming sessions with Deserthaze. Things started out small and then the plot jackalopes (not to be confused with their plot bunny cousins) had a population explosion. She drew a picture (the dA link is in my profile), and I started a oneshot that got out of control and turned into four chapters of grief for Mr. Green. With the exception of Morton, all these characters belong to Cartoon Network and their respective creators. I'll put them back when I'm done. Maybe._

_And folks, this contains slash and adult situations. If that sort of thing offends you, move along to something else. If you read it anyway and get your knickers in a twist, blame yourself and not me._

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Steam rolled around him as he opened the shower stall and stepped out, filling the room with clouds of vapor. Humming to himself, Kilroy Green combed his long white hair back between his horns with his fingers as he groped for the towel he had hung right beside the door. His hand met only empty air. No fluffy blue towel. Confused, he glanced at the floor, wondering if it had fallen, but the towel was not there.

"Looking for this, dreamboat?"

He froze. The voice was high-pitched, feminine, a little sinister, unexpected, unwelcome, and totally disturbing since Green was a single demon and lived alone. What was even more disturbing than the voice was the speaker – a tall, skinny, hatchet-faced, red-skinned, crab-clawed, goatee-bearded, skull capped, Christmas-elf-gone-kinky-costume-wearing demon in thigh-high patent leather stiletto boots lounging across the length of the bathroom counter.

Most disturbing of all, though, were the facts that Green was dripping wet, buck naked, and not only was his towel being held in that thing's claw, but the creature was draped atop the cabinet that held the rest of the towel's brethren. There was no mistaking that wanton look in its glittering black eyes or that seductive smile, making Green think longingly of his clothes . . . a wash cloth . . . a fig leaf. He stared in astonishment at this invader of privacy, speechless and slack-jawed.

"You know, I had exactly the same reaction when I saw you yesterday, gorgeous," purred the devilish-looking being.

"You were horrified?" he squeaked. Even by demonic standards – which admittedly were a lot looser than those of humans - this androgynous elf was a freak.

The tubular red diva giggled. Lithe as a cat, it somehow twisted around to extend its long legs up the wall, leaning on its elbows to tilt its head far back and smile at Green as he dripped on the tiles.

"More like you took my breath away, lover boy," said the singsong voice. "This is the best view I've seen since Maui." Gracefully it extended a claw with the towel hanging on the tip. "Come and get it!"

Lover boy? What-?

He felt a furious green blush climb up his face, as much as at what this thing was insinuating as at his state of undress. There was no escape, at least not through the door. Luckily there was more than one route available to him. He turned and stomped back into the shower stall with whatever dignity was left him, ignoring the elf's happy gasp as he slammed the door behind him. DexLabs Security hated when he did this, but they would have to lump it.

An instant later he was engulfed in a pillar of flames that vanished as swiftly as they appeared as Green transported himself out of there. From his upside-down perch, Him blinked in surprise as smoke seeped out of the stall and slowly cleared to show his dream come true had absconded. He broke into a sly smile.

"So you want to play hard to get?" asked the evil demon, delighted with a challenge. "Game on, Kilroy."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

He materialized in the bathroom attached to his office in DexLabs HQ and stood stark still, waiting, mentally willing the drifting smoke to lay low and keep out of range of the ventilation system. He was listening not for that overgrown elf, but rather for the possibility of setting off the fire alarms (again) and the inevitable calls from Computress, whichever security sergeant was on duty (who would politely chew him out for bypassing security again), and Professor Utonium wondering why Security was in a tizzy (again). Nothing. Not yet. The smoke that had accompanied him slowly dissipated, water dripped from his hair onto the tile floor, and he allowed himself to sigh in relief.

He tried desperately hard to forget that thing's lusty stare and piercing voice. Who was that? Green had never seen him before. Demons, while not unheard of, rarely went mainstream and so were few and far between in regular society. Cast out from demon circles because of his fascination with the world that humans had created, Kilroy had not had much interaction with his own kind for decades and he rarely missed the demonic brand of companionship. Humans, he had found, were far more reasonable and balanced in things like relationships and friendships than his own kind. If that thing back in his apartment was an example of present day demon society (and fashion) then there was a lot to be said about being in exile.

Mr. Green was very content in the niche he had carved out for himself among these humans. He was immensely grateful to Professor Utonium for the opportunities working for DexCorp presented, and in return he gave his employers his utmost devotion and unwavering loyalty. He had been surprised by the number of companies and organizations that tried to tempt him away from working here after he started – some were even places that had turned him away in the past. Working for DexCorp had given him a completely new lease on his life and career. Professor Utonium, president of DexCorp International, didn't care that he was a demon. The Professor only cared that he was the best possible teacher for his brilliant ward. It was refreshing and heartening to be welcomed and treated as a peer, not a novelty, and to be respected for his intelligence.

And then there was the trust shown him. Very few people were even allowed near Dexter, far fewer people had regular access to him, and only one could give him detention. Not that Green ever had given his pupil detention, but the parties involved – namely Dexter, Mr. Green, and Professor Utonium – were well aware of the fact that he could. He liked Dexter far too well to ever do that, and he knew Dexter respected him too much to ever get so far out of line as to merit punishment.

Now his past seemed to be catching up to him with a vengeance and a mind for outrageous flirtations. He couldn't help but glance in the mirror and wonder what it was about his backside that had generated such a gasp of delight out of the overgrown elf when he had turned around earlier. His frame was lean and taut from hours of practice for his badminton league, though his green skin showed old scars that ran too deep to ever fade.

Shaking his head, Kilroy gave up. Poking his head out of the bathroom, he glanced around his shadowy office. No amorous suitors, no Security team rushing in with guns blazing. Another sigh escaped him and he slumped, feeling his horns droop a bit as his tension eased. He would deal with that home invader in his apartment later. He strongly suspected that thing in his bathroom wasn't interested in breaking and entering so much as rifling through his underwear drawer and a night on the town, which was why he hadn't called the police. Why couldn't he just have silverfish and water bugs in his bathroom like normal people?

_Give it up, Kilroy,_ he thought, darting over to the closet.

Right now he had to get dressed and get to work. He'd been a substitute teacher for long enough to be prepared with a change of clothes and extra shoes wherever he went. The gray tunic and trousers were a bit formal for regular teaching duties, but he didn't care in the least, being glad just to have a backup plan after his escape.

_"Mr. Green!"_

He yelped and jumped a foot in the air, his clothes spilling from his hands. Panting from alarm, he turned to see Sgt. Morton appear on the screen of the communicator. The blond man blinked, then locked eyes with the demon and refused to look elsewhere. Demons in the buff were not common sights even in a place as strange as DexLabs, but Morton was too much of a professional to react.

Green followed his stoic example, trying desperately hard to pretend he wasn't as naked as the day he'd been born. His only prayer at preserving his bruised modesty was the shadowy office space or a close up on the monitor, but he knew he was too far away from the camera to hide his present state of undress.

"I know what you're going to say, Sergeant. Don't transport in, don't bypass security."

_"Uh, yes, sir."_

"My apologies, but today has been a bit . . . I don't even have a word for what it's been so far, Sergeant. Let's just say I was desperate."

_"Uh, yes, sir. I'll let Professor Utonium and Computress know."_

Wonderful. Great. Spectacular. Just what he needed. _"Thank_ you, Sergeant."

_"Yes, sir. Uh, pardon me, Mr. Green, sir, but don't you normally wear clothes?"_

His eye narrowed and he felt a stirring of anger. What, did Morton think he was going to streak through the halls of DexLabs headquarters? "Normally, Sgt. Morton, yes, I do wear clothes. Thank you for noticing. Today isn't normal."

_"Yes, sir,"_ agreed the security officer, giving him an odd look.

With a grumble he turned off the unit and collected his clothes again. It wasn't until he was in the restroom again that he realized he was going to have to go commando today. He groaned, instantly self-conscious even though the heavy gray tunic was long enough to hide any hints (whatever they may be) that he was sans underwear.

"Get a grip, Roy," he ordered himself, pulling on the tunic. He had an eye patch in his desk and his cape would hide any deficiencies in his wardrobe. Who would know? Who would care? Besides Kilroy Van Green, off the tip of his horns he could think of only one other being in existence that would find his lack of underwear interesting, and that crab-clawed freak would never, ever, ever find out.

No socks, either. With a grumble he pulled on his boots, then rose and looked in the mirror. Looking back was a tall, slim demon with green skin, long white hair swept to the side to conceal the scar crossing his right eye, and curved horns not unlike those of an antelope. Gorgeous? Well, the horns were definitely nicer than most, but beyond that, the demon that appeared in his bathroom this morning to proposition him must have been blind.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

_Your day will be a cross between April Fool's Day and the worst Friday the 13th on record, making you wonder and eventually beg if you can skip ahead to tomorrow. Too bad. Time travel and enclosed spaces should be avoided today. There's safety in numbers. You're dressed to kill, so love and passion will find you no matter how well you hide. Sudden action will yield satisfaction late in the day. You have a deep, inner mystery to solve._

Mr. Green stared at his horoscope as published by the _Downtown Demonic Daily_ and wondered which complete pantheon of gods he had managed to offend between baking cookies last night and waking up this morning. He would have asked if the day could get any worse, but he feared the answer would be _Yes, Mr. Green, it can. Would you like to see how?_

"Bad morning, Roy?"

Tearing himself away from that miserably accurate prediction in a publication he abruptly decided was not far removed from a rag sheet, Green looked up to see Professor Utonium, smiling at him in his usual pleasant, absentminded way. He poured the demon a mug of coffee before refilling his own cup. Amazingly, the Professor didn't miss and dump the hot liquid on Green, himself, or the lesson plan on the table, so something had gone right so far. It wasn't much, but after this morning Green would take what he could get.

"Um . . . ?"

The Professor saw Mr. Green eyeing the coffee and got the hint. "Don't worry – Dexter made it, not Blossom. He drank some already and he's still alive last I checked, so we should be safe."

"Oh," he said, trying not to sound too relieved. "Good."

Three days ago Blossom, trying to be helpful, somehow made coffee that was not far removed from latex paint in consistency and hydrochloric acid in potency. You knew it was bad when the scientists you worked with felt the need to do a full analysis on the contents of the urn when their mugs had dissolved on contact with the brew. After that fateful and messy morning, Dexter had forbidden any of his sisters from making coffee. If nothing else, it paid to work for a coffee snob because it was a subject the fourteen-year-old billionaire genius and part-time caffeine addict took as seriously as the maintenance of his nuclear reactor. Of course now Dexter would be hyper, but Mr. Green was capable of dealing with legions of children be they tanked up on caffeine or sugar (or both).

He sighed long and deep and appreciatively as he wrapped his hands around the mug and smelled the steaming coffee. He finally looked up at the man that was as much his boss as his friend and said, "Professor, you have no idea."

Another glance at the horoscope gave him a twinge of apprehension.

_You have a deep, inner mystery to solve._

_I'll say_, thought Mr. Green as he took a mouthful of coffee. _Why me?_


	2. Seeing Red

**Clearly Harassment**

**-or-**

**What Part of 'No' Don't You Understand?**

**Chapter Two: Seeing Red**

Just as he expected, Dexter was fairly hyper when they met half an hour later for his regular classes. Knowing his student would be unteachable until he burned off some energy, Mr. Green proposed they take a walk. There was something to be said for a caffeinated Dexter – he was more agreeable than the decaffeinated version and he was through the doors before he remembered he didn't actually _like_ going outside. As a matter of fact, when once asked to list things he disliked, Dexter ranked going outside just after Mandark and his mother's cooking but before banjo music.

Green walked slowly on purpose, choosing a course that led them through the large, landscaped gardens around the campus. Unable to bear the slow pace, Dexter darted ahead, darted back, took side paths, and essentially walked about three times as far as his teacher. Green let him be, knowing his student wouldn't be able to concentrate until he wore himself out.

He picked a bench in a patch of morning sun and sat down, waiting for Dexter. The approaching autumn made the air crisp, but the sun warmed him. He was used to at least two layers of clothing in public, and there was no way Green was going to part with his cape today. Drawing a deep breath, he closed his eyes and let himself relax a bit, hoping that the worst was over.

"So," piped a tiny, high-pitched voice right before him, "tell me more about your scar."

His eye shot open. There was a large, blood-red butterfly hovering before him, coming in for a landing on his knee. Astonished, he looked closer and saw that the butterfly had the head of the demon that had accosted him this morning. Well, different demon types had different abilities, and this one could clearly transform himself as well as transport silently, unlike Mr. Green's rather spectacular travel by fire. The butterfly smiled and batted his eyes at Green as if he could possibly find an insect appealing.

"What?" he demanded. "No! Who are you? What do you want?"

A giggle. "Most people call me Him, but you can call me anything you like."

He would have liked to call him a pain in the ass, but Green knew the demon would take that entirely the wrong way and may even look at it as an invitation. Besides, he couldn't bring himself to say anything so crass, especially within a hundred yards of tender ears. Though he was fairly certain Dexter had heard the word ass before, he would never hear it from his physics teacher.

"What do you want?" hissed Kilroy. He was fed up with this thing stalking him. As usual, when strong emotion took him, the air around him began converting to smoke and rising up in wisps and curls.

Purred the demonic butterfly, "Some one-on-one tutoring in reproductive biology." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and cast Green a saucy grin.

Perfect. 'Come hither' looks from a bug. The tall, green demon frowned. "I only teach astrophysics, particle physics, ancient monster history, and English composition."

Him grinned, showing perfect white teeth. "I guess I'll have to take what I can get." Somehow the butterfly managed to shrug without shoulders. "Blame the cape. I'm a sucker for a good-looking demon in a cape."

Damn that horoscope. "I'm burning it when I get home."

"Looks like you've started without me," Him replied, glancing at the rising smoke.

"Mr. Green!" called Dexter. The short redhead was walking toward them, his gloved hands clasped behind his back. Like Green he was overdressed for the weather, but not for his laboratory, which was kept cold for the sake of the computers. Most likely he had probably just realized he'd just spent the past half hour outside and wanted to escape the fresh air.

Him groaned, annoyed at the interruption. "Oh, not the Red Menace," he groused, shooting a vile look Dexter's way. "Can't you lose that brat?"

Kilroy's eye narrowed sharply at the many-layered insult leveled at his employer. Any other time the nickname would have been supremely witty and fitting, but given the situation Him was one to make fun of anyone's appearance and speech. While Dexter might be egotistical, arrogant, demanding, impatient, and aloof with most people, he admired and respected his physics tutor and there was a genuine liking between teacher and student. Seeing red, Green leaned in close to Him.

"That's my boss _and_ my pupil," he growled in anger, lifting his foot to the bench so he could look Him in the eye. "Don't insult him."

He flicked the butterfly off his knee as hard as he could with the tip of his gloved finger. With a long, high-pitched wail Him landed on the ground at his feet.

"Call me?" asked the tiny voice, and then coughed at the lingering smoke.

"Dream on," he muttered.

Green resisted the urge to stomp Him flat. Dexter came up the path to join him, spotted the insect, and let out an exclamation of panic. He froze, wide-eyed, like a rabbit before a snake. Remembering that the only thing Dexter feared more than bugs was dirt and that dirt terrified the boy completely, Green stood up, stepping over the downed demon and applying himself to his student before Dexter hyperventilated.

"Let's go back inside, shall we?"

"Please," begged Dexter, turning away from the large butterfly with a shudder. Green knew exactly how he felt.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"Try figuring out those vectors, Dexter. I'll be right back."

Intent on his calculations, Dexter nodded vaguely, barely noticing as Mr. Green stepped into the restroom attached to the conference room where his classes were usually held. For a few moments there was silence and Dexter worked diligently on his figures.

A brief shout from the lavatory made him jump and throw his pencil. Wide-eyed, Dexter stared at the door as the pencil rolled away across the table, wondering if he'd actually heard his teacher's voice or if he'd somehow imagined it. Mr. Green wasn't very apt to random screams. After a little while and no repeated exclamations, he let it go. Green hadn't called him to task for panicking at the gigantic butterfly before. If something in the restroom had startled his teacher, he was willing to let it slide.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"You know, until I saw you yesterday, I had no idea that so much Green could be so red hot."

The whispered voice was right in his pointed ear, so close he could feel the warm breath. A high-pitched squeal of alarm escaped him before he could choke off the girlish sound. Approached from his blind side, Green had to twist far to the right for the disturbing site of the grinning, red-skinned, crab-clawed demon back to dish out more harassment.

"Do you always accost people in bathrooms?" he demanded in a hiss.

Him's smile got wider. "Can you think of a better place?"

"Someplace with witnesses would be thoughtful."

"Is that an invitation?"

"Hardly. What do you want? And keep those claws where I can see them!"

The dark eyes roved along with the claws. "Sure you don't need help?"

He yanked his tunic in place, slapping down a claw and feeling his face grow warm with embarrassment. "Perfectly."

"Spoil sport." Him folded his arms and pouted.

"I'm glad you think so."

"So you were telling me about your scar . . . ?"

"No, I wasn't." He gestured at his face where his right eye was covered with a patch and his cheek marred by deep lines. "This is none of your business."

Him purred and smiled, slowly trying to back him into a corner. "That's not the scar I was talking about."

"Not the- oh." Kilroy felt his jaw drop. Him had seen that? One glance at that smug face told him all. Of course he'd seen it. Between his own bathroom and this one, there couldn't be much left to the imagination as far as his personal anatomy was concerned. What a day. "That's _really_ none of your business."

"Too bad. It would be a good story."

"Maybe for you," muttered Green. He side-stepped the red demon and stood his ground in the middle of the bathroom.

Him back up, blocking the door. "You're cute when you blush, Mr. Green. Did you know that?"

"No. Nor do I care. Will you please just leave me alone? I'm not interested in you!"

"No need to be hurtful, darling. I'm plenty interested in you."

"Get used to disappointment, then."

Him chuckled, refusing to believe the attraction wasn't mutual. He perched on the sink and pretended to be supremely coy and disinterested as he polished a claw against his tunic and asked, "So all those boxers really are for show?"

Blushing olive, he huffed in pure annoyance, planting his hands on his hips as he went into full teacher mode.

"For your information - not that it's any business of yours - my lack of underwear today is your fault!"

The red demon beamed and clasped his claws to his chest. "My proudest moment!" He kicked his booted feet in juvenile excitement and pointed to the vapor rising up around Green. "Oh, look, Kilroy! I was right all along! You are smoking hot!"

"You're despicable! Get stuffed!" snapped Green, unable to come up with anything more original in the midst of his frustration.

"I keep trying! You're not helping! Well, at least not the way I'd like," he added teasingly, leaving his perch to slide between Kilroy and freedom from harassment.

"I have had quite enough of you!"

"That makes one of us!"

He stomped over to the door, laying hold of the knob. Happy to get so close, Him smiled seductively, one claw clasping Green's wrist and pulling him in close while he drew the other up Kilroy's cheek in a delicate gesture. Green shuddered in revulsion at the touch and promptly landed an elbow strike in Him's ribs. The tubular demon gagged at the impact, allowing Green to snap,

"And keep your claws off of me!"

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"Dexter, how goes the lesson?"

He looked up as his guardian, Professor Utonium, entered the room.

"Quite well. I'm learning about state vectors."

"Let me see."

Though genetics was his area of expertise, Utonium knew enough about physics to be interested in Dexter's lessons and he was always interested in his progress. He leaned on the back of his ward's chair to check his work. It was challenging stuff and Utonium knew he would have been sunk after the first question, but Dexter was well on his way to finishing the half-dozen problems.

"Where's Mr. Green?"

"In the restroom."

_". . . not that it's any business of yours - my lack of underwear today is your fault."_

Both Utonium and Dexter looked up from the physics exercise at the sound of a heated argument emanating from . . . the bathroom. They exchanged an incredulous look as if to confirm that yes, they really had actually heard Mr. Green talking about his undergarments (or lack thereof), and then they both stared at the door.

"Dexter, who is he talking to?"

"No clue. Mr. Green and I were the only ones in here. I used the restroom before."

"Does he do this often?" whispered the Professor, worried. They could hear voices muffled by the heavy door.

Dexter shook his head, unable to look away. "Never before, Dad."

"He has been having a bad day for some reason."

"Perhaps he should have worn underwear."

"Yeah, that probably would have been a good start."

_"And keep your claws off of me!"_

The bathroom door was yanked all the way open. A loud 'Oof!' was heard as something or someone behind the door was smashed flat. Fuming, smoking, completely indignant, Mr. Green took two steps into the classroom and stopped short as he remembered where he was and who else was in the room with him. Speechless, Dexter and Utonium gaped at him. Green gaped right back for a moment, and then he retreated two steps and slammed the door closed. A muffled 'thud!' reached their ears as he knocked his head on the heavy wooden door.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

A long groan escaped him as he banged his head on the door. His horns prevented him from doing any real damage either to his head or the door, but he would have dearly loved a concussion at the moment. At least that way he might legitimately forget this ever happened. Was it tomorrow yet?

"That's a promising sound," cooed Him, leaning close to blow in Green's ear.

"Shut. Up."

"I knew you'd come back to me, Kilroy dear."

"I didn't come back to you. I'm trying to die of embarrassment and shame. Leave me alone."

Him giggled. "No deathbed confessions of love?"

"No."

"No chance of a kiss?"

"No."

"Date?"

"No."

"Chance of a chance?"

He glared at the taller demon. "What part of _no_ don't you understand?"

"Just the part that says you're not as wild over me as I am over you."

"The whole thing, then. Go away before I call Security."

"Do they have handcuffs?"

"Out!"

He stamped his foot. Him grinned mischievously and waved goodbye as he shrank down to a pinpoint and vanished in a puff of pink smoke.

Green sighed, suddenly spent. That had been too easy. There was no way this was over.


	3. Waylaid

**Clearly Harassment**

**-or-**

**What Part of 'No' Don't You Understand?**

**Chapter Three: Waylaid**

The two confused geniuses shared another stunned look and then when right back to staring. Neither could quite bring himself to believe any of this was happening.

"Maybe he needs a vacation," suggested Dexter. He raised a finger, pointing at the door, and then seemed to lose the ability to put his hand down again as his adolescent brain tried to catch up with the situation.

The Professor shook his head. "I know I'm going to need one after this."

Three more minutes ticked by. Finally they heard the handle turn and Mr. Green opened the door. His composure, while intact, was exceedingly fragile at the moment, but he managed to step out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him. There was absolute quiet as the scientists stared at him, waiting for whatever was coming next.

He drew a deep breath. "I . . . I can explain all this."

Silence.

"But I'd rather not."

Dexter blinked. Utonium followed suit. At the same time they both said, "Good!"

More silence. The longer it dragged out, the harder it was to maintain.

Utonium looked down, trying to stifle a laugh. It was catchy. Dexter pursed his lips together and finally pressed a hand to his mouth to keep quiet. Watching them turn red with the effort, Kilroy felt his own amusement at the situation grow until his poise went down the tubes and he began to laugh out loud. That set his two bosses off and for the next few minutes the three of them were utterly useless.

"Maybe we should pick this up tomorrow, Dexter," suggested Mr. Green, knowing he'd be no better off at applying himself to higher math than his student.

"Excellent idea," agreed Dexter, glad to dodge vectors for a day. Regardless of the fact that he owned DexLabs and all its holdings, until his classes were over he wasn't the boss of anything or anyone, so he hastily packed the work away before the adults changed their minds.

"I'll go get the girls," said Utonium, still grinning. He checked his watch. "It's a bit late. How about we meet in the executive dining room for lunch? All right with you, Roy?"

"We'll wrap this up and meet you there," promised Green. He was glad of the invitation and the promise of company, realizing only now that not only had he left without his underwear, but his lunch and car were both back at his apartment. At least now if Him tried anything, Green would have a witness. He had no intention of letting Dexter out of his sight until he figured out how to extinguish Him's ardor permanently.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

". . . so from the giant's point of view, Jack was a trespassing, murderous thief and opportunist. He single-handedly undermined the proposed peace treaty between the giants and the king of Cornwall and set back human-monster relationships by a few centuries."

Dexter frowned. "Do you think perhaps DeeDee could be related to this Jack? They seem to display similar tendencies towards things like impulse control and destructiveness and common sense."

Keeping his cape wrapped tightly about his lean frame to stop it from flaring out as capes were wont to do on his kind and possibly betray to all of DexLabs the fact that just beneath his tunic and trousers he was . . . naked, Mr. Green smiled. "If your sister is related to him that would have to mean that you are as well."

"There is that." Folding his arms, the redhead pouted, scuffing his boots on the polished floor. "When I was six I was so disappointed to prove I _wasn't_ adopted."

"Not many people have that complaint."

"Not many people are related to as many imbeciles as I am."

That was an inarguable fact - Kilroy had met Dexter's real parents. He far preferred Dexter's unofficial father and sisters. Green let go the cape to point down the hall. "Well, at least you were fortunate enough to augment the situation."

Dexter pushed his glasses back into place and smiled as he spotted the Professor and the three Powerpuff Girls moving toward them. As usual, the girls would not walk when they could fly, a habit that had gotten flying banned from certain areas of the building after one too many motion detector alarms were activated by them zooming through the halls. Also as usual, they were talking and making their father laugh as they hovered around him.

Midway down the hall Mr. Green slowed his pace to let Dexter go ahead and greet his sisters. He watched in glowing satisfaction to see his normally introverted, defensive student become animated and social and engage in small talk with the trio of superheroes. It was a shame more people didn't get to see how charming he could be, Green felt. Then again, he wasn't the best one to judge, being biased towards humans in general, children in particular, and his student specifically.

"Come on, girls," called Utonium, walking toward the waiting demon. "Mr. Green is joining us for lunch and I'm sure he's hungry."

Happy voices rose up - the girls were as fond of their former substitute teacher as they were of eating - and they followed quickly. They were focused on talking to Dexter, so when their father stopped in mid stride to stare in shock, they didn't notice.

Green blinked. Professor Utonium wasn't look at him, but beyond him. Dexter stepped in front of his guardian, talking all the while and not paying attention. A moment later Bubbles collided with her father's back, followed in rapid succession by Buttercup and Blossom. At the repeated impacts, Utonium spilled to the floor with a shout of surprise, smushing Dexter at the bottom of the pile. Similar cries escaped the three girls as they tumbled down gracelessly on top of them. A moment later Green understood Utonium's shock when a long, red-clothed arm slipped around his waist and his left hand was carefully lifted in Him's claw. A chill ran down his spine at the touch of warm breath on his neck as Him tried to tug him back against his chest. Kilroy set his feet firmly, refusing to be pulled off balance.

"You wanted witnesses," teased Him, smiling fondly. "Now you have five."

The Utonium clan was untangling itself. Their reactions were almost laughable as one after another they realized what was happening.

Dexter was appalled, as much as at anything getting past security as at his favorite teacher being mauled by anything so sinister and ugly and badly dressed. Fury filled him as he saw not only the possessive gleam in the red demon's eyes, but the subdued struggle going on between the two. Mr. Green clearly did not welcome these advances. From the bottom of the heap of Utoniums, Dexter managed to wriggle a hand free to point a finger at the uninvited, unwanted, androgynous red thing cluttering up his corporate headquarters.

"Unhand my teacher, you . . . you . . ." Dexter hesitated, uncertain. "Professor, what is that thing?"

Pushing himself up off the floor and his ward and spilling Powerpuff Girls to all sides, Utonium was momentarily speechless in horror at the sight of his trusted friend and employee in the grips of the Ultimate Evil. He dragged Dexter, most vulnerable of his children, back and away, unable to stop staring. At the boy's protests, Utonium finally managed to whisper, "That's _Him."_

"Him who?" wondered Dexter, so astonished at the Professor's reaction that he let himself be hauled away.

"A demon so vile, so evil, so horrible his very name strikes fear into the hearts of men."

Staring at his chosen father through this overly dramatic utterance, Dexter gave a little sound of, "Ah. That explains why you're afraid, Dad. I guess I've got a few years to go yet."

Utonium glowered. "You'll be changing your tune when you're old enough to vote, junior. Trust me."

"His wardrobe is pretty scary," allowed Dexter.

Bubbles remained on her knees, both hands raised to her mouth as she took in the sight of poor Mr. Green in the clutches of Him. She dared not move, terrified of what the nasty demon might do to hurt her sweet and gentle friend. Mr. Green looked surprised for a moment, and then his eyes narrowed and he frowned.

Standing beside her sister, Blossom saw the situation in a completely different light. She saw the unconcealed desire in Him's expression as he tried to tug Mr. Green closer. For Him to show up here, right in front of the Powerpuff Girls and their family and friend, was beyond gutsy. When Him gave Mr. Green a sappy, adoring look, she felt her bile rise and a wave of nausea swept over her. Like Bubbles, she clapped her hands to her mouth, but it was out of revulsion, not fear, and she had never pitied anyone more than Mr. Green at that moment.

Buttercup, on the other side of Bubbles, had deliberately placed herself between their enemy and her family. She was mentally debating the best way to fry Him and save Mr. Green from that slime ball. The trick was making sure none of the geeks got hurt. She was focused solely on Green and his subtle little fight not to fall back against Him. The situation wasn't lost on her - Him was clearly angling for a date at least and the Powerpuff Girl couldn't help but feel sorry for her old substitute teacher. Mr. Green was a class act and quite a good catch if you liked green skin (which, Buttercup had to admit if only to herself, she did) but he'd never got out with the likes of Him . . . she hoped.

"I'm not interested!" Mr. Green snapped, trying to tug free of Him's grip. "Not even a little!"

Kilroy was the shorter of the two demons but for his horns, and Him leaned in close and sultry to ask, "So you're saying it was premature for me to have 'Kilroy was here' tattooed on my-"

With a shout of alarm that drowned out Him's last word, Utonium clapped his hands over the ears of the nearest child, in this case, Dexter. The boy genius gave a yelp of surprise as Utonium's protective tendencies went into overdrive and he was dragged even further away, a victim of hyperactive parenting.

Suddenly Buttercup's eyes grew wide. She saw a slow, graceful movement as Mr. Green lifted one booted foot. Delight filled her and she felt a giggle welling to the surface in anticipation of what was about to happen. Mr. Green met her eyes, his expression calm and warning as his look told her not to give him away. Buttercup sobered up instantly - this was going to be too good to miss.

"Mr. Green!" whined Bubbles, almost in tears as she expected the worst.

Blossom, her coloring close to that of Him's love interest, tried not to heave as Mr. Green looked back at Him with an almost coy expression on his face. "Last chance."

Him's eyes grew wide. Full of hope, he asked, "For romance?"

His foot rose higher. Buttercup looked at Green's boot - a steel-toed, heel-ironed, heavy-duty engineering boot specifically for working with Dexter in his laboratory - and felt a swell of pride for her brother's teacher and what was about to come.

"To let me go."

"What if I can't?" Him tightened his hold. "What if I say never?"

Kilroy Van Green smirked . . .

. . . and brought his heel down as hard as he could.


	4. Sudden Action Will Yield Satisfaction

**Clearly Harassment**

**-or-**

**What Part of 'No' Don't You Understand?**

**Chapter Four: Sudden Action Will Yield Satisfaction**

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

A/N Diana-Kisa has written a sequel to _Clearly Harassment_ called _A Different Bedtime Story_, which involves Professor Utonium addressing Bubbles' confusion in the aftermath of Him's visit. It's great fun and worth a read and the link for it is posted on my profile.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

The howl of pain that echoed through the halls of DexLabs Headquarters became the stuff of legend. Him's unholy shriek as his foot was crushed beneath Kilroy Green's heel shook the building. Panes of glass shattered, alarms activated, leaves were knocked off the trees as far away as the employee parking lot, and Mandark, busily plotting Dexter's downfall from across the avenue at Mandark Industries, called in a noise complaint. (That was nothing new – Mandark complained so often about Dexter and DexLabs that the Downtown police had cited him for being a nuisance).

As for the witnesses, Utonium went back to gaping as Him briefly hopped around holding his smashed foot in his claws. Dexter groaned in renewed anger at the sight of safety glass from the shattered windows strewn across the floor and the sound of alarms elsewhere in the building. Bubbles rushed forward to hug Mr. Green and assure herself that he was unharmed. Blossom planted her hands on her hips and snapped, "Serves you right!" as Him hopped around, endlessly whining, "Ow! Ow! Ow!" Buttercup, direct as ever, put up with Him's antics for all of a minute then said, "Zip it!" a moment before she tripped Him. The Ultimate Evil sprawled on the floor in a messy heap of black patent leather and pink tulle.

Satisfied with himself and the results of his foot-stomping (his horoscope had been more right than he'd ever imagined) Mr. Green leaned over Him. With the Powerpuff Girls ranged behind him, the green-skinned demon smiled faintly.

"I did warn you."

Him was about to snap an answer when that smile arrested him. This was the first time Kilroy had smiled at him. What the evil demon had felt before paled in comparison to the emotion gripping him at the sight of Kilroy Green looking upon him with gentle amusement and concern. If he had seemed gorgeous before then now he was adorable beyond words, and Him knew that he was falling stupid in love. He was about to speak when up stormed the Red Menace, dragging the Professor along with him and spoiling the moment.

"YOU!" he shouted, his Russian accent coming on thick and strong. He struggled out of Utonium's hold and pointed imperiously at Him. Dexter was so short that Him, sitting up to nurse his throbbing foot, was able to look the boy in the eye. "You will cease this pathetic harassment of my teacher and remove yourself from my corporate headquarters immediately!"

Not about to be pushed around by this undersized, raving brat, Him gave him the evil eye. "And if I don't?"

Dexter blinked, his eyebrows rising at the notion of anyone (or thing) trying to outdo him in the arrogance department.

_"That,"_ he said with authority, drawing himself up to his full and rather unimpressive height, "is a very stooopid question."

The hint hit home immediately, because as Dexter spoke the Powerpuff Girls rose into the air around the boy they called their brother, their hands and eyes glowing threateningly with building energy. Behind them, Professor Utonium folded his arms and glared. Kilroy's smile widened.

"Anything else you'd like to know?" demanded Dexter coldly.

"Just one thing." Him looked beyond Dexter to Kilroy. "Busy Friday night?"

"OUT!" Dexter commanded, pointing at the nearest exit.

"Sorry," Kilroy said, feeling something akin to kindness and pity for Him and his fruitless efforts. "I have to polish my cat."

He gave the quiet and dignified demon a long, sideways look. Green hadn't actually said no, and whether he realized it or not, that lingering trace of a smile on his lips was an open invitation. There was hope for Him yet.

"Are you going to leave or do I have to ask my sisters to toss you out the window?" demanded the Red Menace.

"Killjoy," sneered Him. He rose to his feet. His foot ached horribly, but in truth he didn't mind all that much since Kilroy had smiled upon him. Glaring right back at the children, he turned to go. Then he paused. There was no way he could just leave in defeat and give these brats a total victory. It just wasn't his style. And there was no way he could go without giving Kilroy-

Before anyone, even Buttercup, could react, Him reached out with both claws over Dexter's head and seized Mr. Green's upper arms. Yanking the astonished demon in close and tight, Him kissed Kilroy full on the lips. The Utoniums gasped. Smashed between his teacher and a super fiend in holiday drag, Dexter let out a scream of revulsion and struggled futilely to free himself.

Green was too shocked to do anything other than stand there and take it for the better part of a minute. When finally Him broke the kiss, he could only stare at the red demon in speechless, breathless surprise. Him smiled roguishly and licked his lips, enjoying every last moment of this encounter.

"See you around, Mr. Green," promised Him.

A squeaky noise escaped Kilroy's throat. He had yet to move, blink, or shut his gaping mouth. Dexter wriggled clear and proceeded to have a breakdown. Him blew Green a good-bye kiss and vanished in a puff of pink smoke.

Except for Dexter quietly freaking out, there was silence. Finally Bubbles piped up,

"I always thought Him was a boy."

She was clearly confused. There was the sound of a slap as Utonium clapped a hand to his aching head.

"He _is_, Bubbles," snapped Buttercup impatiently. "Hello! _Him?"_

"Then why did he kiss Mr. Green?"

Another slapping sound echoed down the hall as Buttercup imitated her father. Blossom sighed, shaking her head. By now Dexter had stripped off his white lab coat and cast it on the floor, followed quickly by his gloves.

"I need to be decontaminated," he whined.

Mr. Green finally shook himself, a shudder running through his whole lean frame as his mind caught up with what had just happened. His lips still tingled, and it occurred to Kilroy that he had not been kissed - _really_ kissed - in a very, very long time. Despite that, he did not resist the impulse to swipe at his mouth with the back of his gloved hand.

"I need to brush my teeth."

Patrick Utonium sighed. He looked at his daughters, who were everything from confused to disgusted to fed up, to his son, who looked about to have a catastrophic melt down, to his son's tutor, who looked shell-shocked.

"I need a drink," the Professor announced with absolute finality. He looked at Mr. Green and said in a voice that allowed for no arguments, "And so do you."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Epilogue: Double or Nothing

The bar was dark, seedy, and smelled of cheap alcohol and smoke – a perfect spot for the caliber of demon he was meeting up with tonight. Him moved slowly through the crush of creatures hunched low over their tables and ignored the hush that fell as the Ultimate Evil passed. His limp caused a bit of a stir as he slid into the empty bench seat in the booth furthest from the entrance.

Opposite him sat a black, brooding figure with a startling shock of blue flames where his hair should have been. His eyes and mouth glowed with the same blue glow as the flames atop his head. Fire demons came in all sorts of shapes and sizes, ranging from the shadow-cloaked, evil Demongo before him to the cool and elegant Kilroy Green left behind at DexLabs earlier today.

A smirk split the demon's dark face as he noticed Him was limping. Him leaned back and let Demongo have his fun as the tentacled orange waitress brought him some whiskey in a chipped and dirty glass.

"I take it that limp you're sporting isn't the kind you'd like to brag about," said Demongo. His voice was surprisingly high-pitched, and the glow from his features seemed to lengthen the shadows when he spoke.

"Perceptive as ever. Collect many souls lately?"

Demongo drank a mouthful of whiskey, causing the flames on his head to flare up briefly. "Ones worth having are getting harder and harder to come by."

"Poor you," mocked Him.

The fire demon shrugged, and then looked over the brim of his glass to sneer, "I like a challenge." He gave Him a nasty look. "So. Is the fact that you're here proof positive that I won our bet?"

He drew a deep breath, hating that he was forced to admit, "For the moment. I like a challenge, too."

Demongo chuckled. "But does the challenge like you?"

He rolled his eyes, tasting the harsh whiskey. It burned his throat. "That remains to be seen."

"Let me guess . . ." The mockery in Demongo's voice was as thick and annoying to Him's ears as listening to Dexter rant. "You tried your usual, crude, head-on approach . . . and got stomped on."

It was impossible to deny as much, seeing as how his foot was throbbing and he dared not remove his boot yet. "It was worth a shot."

He snorted and slammed back the rest of his drink, casting the booth into flickering, bluish daylight for a moment. "Anyone with such good taste in capes won't respond to those tactics."

It was Him's turn to mock. "Matching capes is not a good basis for a relationship."

"Oh? Have you tried it?" He set his chipped glass at the edge of the table.

"Not yet."

Him glowered, his dark eyes narrowing sharply. "Don't even think about it, Demongo."

The black demon motioned for more drinks. "Why not? You lost. You said you could land Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes inside of an afternoon. So why are you sitting here with me and not wining and dining your dream come true?"

"Because he was busy," Him growled. There was no way he would admit to being turned down at every turn. "But I saw him first."

"You lost him first, you mean."

A chill ran down Him's spine. These were dangerous waters. "Just round one. He's playing hard to get."

"Really?" asked Demongo, completely unimpressed by the red demon's boastings. "Are you sure he's playing?"

"Are you suggesting I'm being played?"

"Player or played, you still lost the bet." Demongo smirked as more whiskey arrived. "Maybe I should step in and show you how it's done."

He had a hideous vision of Kilroy content in Demongo's embrace. The very idea sickened him and he forced himself not to shudder. "I don't need your help," Him said.

"I think you do."

"I don't."

The Collector of Souls chuckled. "Then get steel-toed boots."

Him glared. Had it been anyone less than a minion of Aku on the receiving end of that daggered look they would have been dead a thousand times over and grateful to be released from their sufferings.

Demongo drew a deep breath, not that his particular kind needed to breathe. It was more for effect. "How does this strike you? Double or nothing. You have a month. By the end of that time, you two are an item or you stand back and watch me collect his soul. Deal?"

"Kilroy's soul was never on the line."

"Ohhhhh," purred Demongo, oozing contempt. "You really do care. So weak. You're slipping. Too much time among these filthy humans, Him. You're picking up their nasty little traits." He leaned close. "One month, or else you get to watch me make _Kilroy_ fall and love and hand over his soul to me himself. See, there's a soul worth having. Take it or leave it." He sat back, well satisfied and confident that that he could uphold his end of the bargain. "Didn't you just say you liked a challenge?"

He had no choice and this slime knew it. "And when I win?"

"You're free to go," promised Demongo magnanimously. He caught himself and added, "Oh, and I guess that horny green bean you're hot after can keep his soul if he still wants it. But until then . . ." His voice suddenly deepened as he formed a binding spell. _"You will not speak of this."_

Not even Him, the Ultimate Evil, could escape such a spell. It was final. He would not be able to speak of their bet to anyone but Demongo until he won Kilroy's affections or stood helplessly by and watched as Demongo claimed the gentle, green-skinned demon and his soul.

"I have a month," confirmed Him.

"Mmm-hmm. After that, I step in, you get to watch, and then I collect what's owed me . . . and what I want."

"Plenty of time," Him said with bravado he really didn't feel. Unable to hate the other demon more, he winked and smirked across the table. "Game on, Demongo."

_-Fin-_


End file.
